


Something Never Known

by LadyCorvid



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys In Love, Child Abuse, Drugs, Eventual Smut, Foster Care, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Porn With Plot, Sibling Incest, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:56:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCorvid/pseuds/LadyCorvid
Summary: Dirk had loving friends and adopted family and a fat bank account.  He was happy and seemed normal. However no matter how much everyone welcomed him in, he didn't belong in their families. Plastered everywhere, a logo of a family he never knew.  Trophies, wealth and marks of fame of people he will never meet. He beats himself to reach the standards of his deceased brothers because they are all he knows himself to be.  He was aloneUntil he is informed that he is not the only one with Strider blood in his veins.  He has a brother. He has a family.Dave moved between foster homes, his friends lived on every corner of the country.  The entire town treated him like being a Strider made him the Antichrist.  Beaten and disciplined because his "brothers" were "anarchists". They were dead for fuck sake!  Gone before he was a year old leaving a storage unit and savings account in his name.  The Strider logo everywhere to remind him and his tormentors all they had done. Fuck all of them.  He made his own money, he fed himself, he moved out on his own. He was alone.Then he receives a text from his counselor.  Something about a separated twin brother.  Another member of the family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Short introduction chapter. Hope you enjoy!

       Dirk relaxed into the comfort of familiarity. The sound of hi friends talking over video chat, the mechanical motion of his fingers typing code, the smell of Doritos and citrus. He had long since drowned out the conversation, occasionally noting the clock as it ticked on - 11:47pm, 12:32pm, 1:18am. Everything was perfect. Until there was a rather harsh smack across the side of his head.

       It wasn't strong enough to hurt but it sure was a disorienting way out of his trance. He blinked and snapped his eyes to the video feed in his confusion. Jane was stuck in a silent wheeze, Jake was covering his mouth and shaking and Roxy's webcam was still on but she was nowhere to be seen. He spun around to see what had attacked him and - yeah, there she was. Roxy giggling down at him.

       "Roxy. What the fuck?"

       "Dirk," she squealed happily, "you were totally zoned out, ya dork, here we are trying to make plans with you, yelling for ya, and being completely ignored."  
She dropped herself onto his lap. "I'd like to see you try to ignore me now."

       "So you drove for twenty minutes, at one-thirty in the morning, to break into my house and assault me?"

       "Yep!" There was giggling in the background.

       He sighed and pulled her close mumbling into her hair "Yeah and you call me a dork. Anyways, what were these plans?"

       "The mall! Whoop whoop!" A small choir came from the speakers. He spun his chair around to face the monitor depicting the smiling faces of his friends.

       "All right, I'm in."

       They all cheered and giggled. Dirk saved and shut down the coding program he had been working on so he could focus all his attention on his friends.  They got lost in conversations and jokes and existential questions deep in their exhaustion fueled high.

* * *

       Dirk arched his back and huffed out a deep breath against the weight on his chest. His eyelids were heavy but he lifted them regardless. Jane and Jake could be seen passed out at their computers as well and Roxy was drooling on his shirt. He scooped her up and left her on his bed before stumbling his way to the kitchen area. He threw open the fridge door snatched up a can of orange Crush and chugged it, letting the cold carbonation electrify his senses. He shook the caffeinated buzz out of his head and threw the can in the counter before once again focusing his attention on the inventory in the refrigerator. Selecting eggs, a pound of bacon and some hash browns out of the freezer.

       Dirk made the conscious decision to cook the bacon last. Just as it began to sizzle and fry a loud thudding could be heard and a long drawled out cry for food. Roxy's small frame did little to make him budge as she pounced onto his back, a vicious feline hungry to feast on greasy bacon.

       “Good mornin,” he cleared his throat trying to play off the southern accent that leeched off the early morning fogginess.

       “Good morning. Now food!” Dirk shook his head but submitted to giving her one of the plates - minus the bacon. She sat at the island and started inhaling the food. He dropped the slices as they finished frying. Setting out a water jug, glasses and his own plate he finally settled to eat.

       “So, the mall today,” Roxy started, barely bothering to swallow the food, “We pick everyone up on our way there. We can have lunch in the food court and head to the local pizzeria for dinner. Oh, and there are a few stores in particular I have to go to.”

       “Make Jake carry your Victoria Secret bags this time. Other than that, sounds cool, but I have to make a quick pit stop at the house.” Roxy gave a giggle and a nod.

* * *

  
       Roxy had changed into the clothes she brought with her and they had picked up the rest of the quartet. Both girls sitting in the back seat gossiping while Dirk tried to simultaneously focus on the road and defend the radio from Jake's shitty playlist. He was aided by Roxy kicking the back of Jake's seat and messing up his hair. But for how fiercely they sparred, the mixtape in the player was only background noise anyway to the laughter and playful cussing that buzzed in the truck. The clock on the interface read 10:52am California and the sun was blinding even through his shades. They pulled up the driveway in a wealthy neighbourhood. Music and the sound of machinery could be heard from the closed garage, Dirk blared the horn before turning off the car blindly smacking in the general direction of his company, urging them to get out as he fumbled to find the house key on the ring. He located them and quickly unlocked the door, letting himself in and his friends stumbled in after, still deep in conversation.

       The muffled tunes went silent and two males walked into the house through the connecting door, smiles drawn wide on their faces. Their long raven hair pulled into high ponytails, they were drenched in sweat and oil, tool belts weighed heavily on their hips. They pulled Dirk close to them in a familiar embrace that he reciprocated without hesitation, they were his family. They shared greetings and Dirk led the way of his pack to the living area, the other two branched off down a hallway.

       "Hey Horuss, what are you guys working so hard on?" Dirk chuckled and accepted the can of Crush pop the mentioned one offered him. There were a collection of "thank you"s as everyone accepted their drinks.

       "Why, you already know that we're working on your birthday gift -thank you, Equius- we're almost done it too." Equius had returned with some towels to wipe themselves off.

       "Yeah, why the fuck? My birthday isn't until December, it's June." Dirk inquired.

       "Father wanted to give it to you early because he thought you could enjoy it most during the summer," Equius elaborated, "Now forgive me for being so straight forward but did you finish those blueprints?"

* * *

  
       "When were we downgraded from friends to pack mules?" Jake huffed out dropping the shopping bags into the bed of the truck like a sack of bricks. He let out a few quiet curses as he stretched his shoulders and back, stiff and sore after hours of hauling Jane and Roxy's abundant purchases.

       "It's not a downgrade, dummy!" Roxy jeered in defense but cued Jane to elaborate with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

       "Those are our delicates. We have a lot of faith and trust in you boys, putting those in your possession." The other girl offered, pink creeping up her cheeks.

       "We're being used." Jake deadpanned, nudging Dirk as he pulled the cover over the bed. There was a scowl on the darker skinned male's face but his emerald eyes glinted playfully.

       "Will you guys please get your sweet asses moving. I'm starving and the movie starts in like, two hours!" Roxy urged as she took her seat beside Jane.

       "Woah! What movie?" Dirk questioned unaware of this part of the schedule.

       "They are having a showing of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff: The Moive with twenty minutes of never before seen scenes."

       "It isn't 'never before seen', I've seen it. I inherited all of the deleted scenes from all twelve of the movies. Not to mention the blooper reels, interviews, director's commentary, authentic props from the sets, merch and a collection of clips he recorded on his phone when they weren't filming."

       "But don't you wanna see the fruits of his labour on the big screen. So Janey-" Everyone was fully aware that Dirk was fighting a losing battle for stubborn Roxy Lalonde's word was law. Jake drew everyone's attention with a topic they all enjoyed harassing Dirk with.

       "Yeah, you sure did get a lot of crazy things from your brothers, huh Strider? Like the giant Snoop Dog bust and creepy puppet collection."

       "If you try shit talking Lil' Cal and my sick smuppets in my own vehicle I will round house kick you off the nearest skyrise so help me, English," Dirk elbowed him as he turned onto the highway, "but yeah, my bros were kinda weird all around. They left behind some really ironic shit and a fortune for me to inherit. They had a tyrany over the media and were controversial enough to have people fucking assassinate them. Yet there is no record of their real names, no clear pictures of their faces, no details about their lives and upbringing. Lots of stupid conspiracy theories about them knowing too much about some big corporations, not conforming to the alien's plans to enslave humankind." Everyone chuckled and cracked jokes, stating their own absurd 'theories' before Dirk continued. "They didn't really leave a trace on the world aside from the Strider logo sitting in the corner of every webpage, introduction credit and disc case. Everything I know about their personalities are stories dad told me."

       "I still find it interesting how you still refer to Mr. Zahhak as your dad," Jane piped in, "I know you said it was because of the sentimental attachment but I still find it kind of cute."

       "Well, I wasn't exactly surprised to hear that I was adopted. Like, holy shit, I only have a completely different hair colour, eye colour, skin tone, facial structure, and body type than the extremely loyal widowed man whose wife died three years before I was born and his two sons. Wasn't exactly rocket science. But related or not, they took me in, raised me, cared for me and supported me. If that doesn't make them family than I don't know what fucking does." Dirk looked back on childhood memories fondly. Helping Mr. Zahhak in the auto shop, doing school engineering projects with Equius and Horuss. "Do I still feel like an outcast with them? Hell yeah, but that's not really through anyone's fault. Except for the aliens. It's completely their fault."

       They moved the conversations along naturally. Everyone sharing their own childhoods and family turned into something that happened last week to what they had for dinner last night. They buzzed in conversations throughout the rest of the evening. Stuffing themselves with pizza and staying for dessert, buying extra large popcorn that they knew they would never finish but hell they were going to try. Jane took the futile task of trying to keep them all quiet, a smack on the back of the head every time Dirk recited the punchline from memory before it happened, every time Roxy squealed when someone in the movie fell down the stairs, every time Jake got rambling about this actor and that actress. They made their way to the Crocker household and drifted off happily on the carpeted living room floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People clicked to see some DirkDave and just got some of Dirk and the alpha kids, sorry bout that but here's Dave's introduction now. NEXT chapter will get them together.

      Dave was feeling hot and smothered in every wrong way. Texas temperature in the middle of June, in the unairconditioned motel room of the sweaty man on top of him who was digging his fingers into the bruise on his hip. Hot breath against his neck and ear as dirty things were hushed to him, tongue flicking out and slithering across his flesh. His skin was on fire and he just wished it would all melt off. Let all the nerves slide onto the floor in a gory, disgusting mess. The man rubbed his softening cock with feigned care. Dave managed to change a rough groan into a sultry wanton moan. He wrapped his arms around the man's neck, clinging to him, pressing him closer. Dave retreated into his mind.

      Dave was feeling so cold and hollow, he always felt this way and he just wanted it to be different. Every touch echoed through him making his body shake, it all faded into the emptiness inside him. The words whispered to him were meaningless. There was the feeling of floating, no up or down, nothing to ground him. He felt his mouth move but he couldn't hear his own voice, he couldn't hear what lies he was spouting. Before he knew it, he was back in reality. Alone, naked, sore, a collection of bills on the nightstand. He was so cold, so empty.

      He had rented out a small house only a block away from the motel, jogging home after every 'appointment' was a good way to save money, keep in shape and get his mind off the self loathing that came with each customer.  
He thought to the piece of plastic he buried deep in his wallet. It was worth millions! He still remembered the day it was given to him, sealed in an envelope with the name 'Strider' written across it. He was thirteen. He remembered the way that clown snarled the name "Strider" before breaking his arm, giving him a black eye and sending him to a different house. He was seven. He never had to do this again. He never had to start this in the first place. It was too late for that kind of thinking now, the feeling of turning yourself into a product isn't something that can be undone.

      He couldn't bring himself to be alarmed when he saw his front door wide open. Kicking off his shoes, grabbing a box of no name cereal and two apple juice boxes he finally relaxed.

      "Y'know for a guy who hates my guts oh so much, you sure do love to be around me."  
     

      "You can get off that high motherfucking horse right now, Strider," The intruder slurred, rising tall from his place on the couch "I could fucking tear you apart right where you stand."

      "You're tripping balls, dude. Do you hear that?" the, in fact high, titan of a man observed him with, what Dave could only guess was, confusion through the smeared white makeup, "Ah man, I think that's the sound of the carnival leaving without you. Better move your juggalo ass along, yeah off you run, nice seeing you Gamzee. Please stop dropping by."

      Gamzee's face twisted into into what was undeniably rage. Teeth barred and grinding, his breathing became heavy and quick as his temper boiled over. Dave, however, didn't stand down, never breaking eye contact even as gamzee's hands enclosed around his neck. His long slender fingers constricted like the serpentine devil himself, lifting him off the ground. Dave's hands grasped the vice around his neck and he couldn't stop the flash of panic in his eyes but he never let it reach his face. Emotions steady, he flipped the other man off and was dropped to the ground. Gamzee marked his departure, not with a word but with a slam of the front door.  
Dave stumbled to his feet, grabbing the food he dropped, only to let himself slump back down onto the couch. He shut his eyes, scrubbing his face with the balls of his palms. He pulled his switchblade out of his pocket, cutting into the top of the one of the juice boxes and chugging its sweet ambrosia. He tossed the blade onto the table in front of him. He watched it shine by the sunlight through the window as it spun in place dripping with apple juice. Guilt pooled in his stomach as it came to a slow stop. He let out a sigh of defeat and stood up, grabbing the blade and taking it to the sink to rinse it off before it got sticky. Returning to his space on the couch he, held the blade in the sun to examine the blade like he had a million times before.

      'Strider' was carved elegantly into one side of the shiny stainless steel blade. The handle was a bright red in colour and seemed to fit perfectly in his hand. He only felt secure, like he found his place in the universe, when it was tight in his grip. Dave wanted nothing to do with everything he inherited from his famous relatives. The card to his savings account never left his wallet, he kept the storage unit payed for but had never seen what it contained. The counselor called it all the Strider family heirlooms but Dave called it stupid. A solitary seventeen year old orphan was not a family. No one was there to teach him what the name stood for. The family had died with the older brothers he never knew. "Strider" was not a family, it was a product, a corporation. The switchblade, however, that was his.

      He slid the knife back into the security of his pocket and pulled out his phone. The large amount of notifications brought a smile to his ever stoic face, 78 messages from seven people. Most of them came from Terezi and Jade, spamming him from ungodly hours in the morning. Kanaya Maryam had jumped on her girlfriend’s bandwagon of psychoanalyzing him, both asking about his schedule this past week which will no doubt lead to his life choices being criticized. John asked if he had read the latest issue of Game Bro. Karkat seemed to have vented about his entire life. And the latest message was a surprise. Tavros, one of Gamzee’s childhood friends, saying that the mentioned man had brought him up in a high rage and if he was okay. Dave got that one out of the way first, a simple ‘im good’, then not replying to the “oh, good. Stay safe.” then he moved to tackle the important (to him) people.

      He managed to evade the prying of Rose and Kanaya until they submitted with an a statement of “It is evident that you are under a lot of stress, we will discuss this later.” Key word there “WILL”.

      John ranted to him about this and that review and the movie he saw yesterday and how the prequel was better and how his dad was awful. However, Dave enjoyed the conversation fully. Jokes were made and Dave got to ramble his heart out as well. Dave truly appreciated how John tolerated him and was more than proud to call the dorky boy his best friend.

      Dave latched onto every one of Karkat’s cap locked words, slipping it into his long term memory. He couldn’t resist messing with him though, replying with a bare “damn”. Karkat responded instantaneously. A barrage of insults came at an alarming rate and after "insensitive fucking dog licking cunt wipe" caught his eye he realized they weren't going to stop. Dave slipped in a query of "what if stuffed animals were sentient creature that prayed on the innocence of children". The messages halted and there was a minute of nothing. He jumped when more text appeared on the screen..."carcinoGeneticist [CG] has blocked turntechGodhead [TG]." Dave snorted. Finally onto the way too hyper girls that were no doubt going to take up the rest of his day.

      Karkat had blocked him for a good part of the day but finally sent him a message approaching the hour of five

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

TG: just couldnt stay away huh

TG: you needed a good fix of this strider ass

CG: I CANT EVEN BRING MYSELF TO CARE RIGHT NOW.

TG: ill try harder

CG: DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE.

CG: I JUST WANTED TO REMIND YOU.

CG: THAT IF YOU, YOU KNOW, NEED TO TALK.

CG: BETWEEN BROS.

CG: I'M ALWAYS MORE THAN HAPPY.

TG: you have been talking to kanaya

CG: SHE'S MY OLDEST FRIEND IS IT A SURPRISE?

TG: no but if i find out yall talking shit i will highjack a plane and crash it into your house

CG: WE WERE TALKING SO MUCH SHIT.

CG: I'LL BE AWAITING YOUR ARRIVAL.

TG: watch your back

TG: but seriously thanks i guess but this household has rules

TG: emotional bull is only allowed between the hours 3am to 4am and only if im high as a kite

CG: I DON'T SLEEP ANYWAY SO WHENEVER YOU WANT.

CG: NOW GO EAT DINNER.

TG: how did you know i havent ate dinner yet

CG: WATCH YOUR BACK.

carcinoGeneticist [CG]  ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

TG: what the fuck

      He decided he would treat himself tonight. Dinner at one of the cafes, going to see the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff with never before seen scenes and taking the night off seemed like a really good idea.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP THIS IS REALLY LATE, MY BAD! Between personal issues I ended up not having the motivation to write. Hopefully I'll get better with updating.

"Chocolate pancakes! Get up! I will eat them all, you know I will! Sleepy heads!"

Jake's voice was chipper as ever, not faltering even under the barrage of pillows that he didn't bother to dodge.

"Oh Mister Crocker, I will take all those amazing, delicious, fluffy pancakes!"

"I say, we eat all the pancakes and not let Jake have any," An opposing male mumbled into the floor, "'cause he's being a dick."

The three pushed themselves off the ground, raced past the early bird and into the kitchen in record breaking time. Jake fought his way into the mosh of hungry 17 year olds claiming as many pancakes as they possibly could. Proceeding to the table to drown their prize in syrup and collecting beverages from the fridge.

"Thanks for the pancakes, dad," Jane chirped hugging the man from behind as he sat at the table with a newspaper. As she pulled away, Dirk took her place wrapping his arms around him, earning a deep chuckle, "Yeah, thanks dad, you're the best."

The group chattered around the table about what they dreamed about and about Jake's experience helping with breakfast. As they discussed their plans for the day Dirk's phone buzzed to life in his pocket. He pulled it out instinctively, swiping the screen and glancing at the received message. There was a single message from his dad. His birthday present was done and he would like it to be picked up today. Dirk smiled and he couldn't help but feel like a child as he felt his fingers tingle in anticipation. Another message slid onto the screen, a rather blunt but ominous "There is something that needs to be discussed." He couldn't help the smile slowly slipping off his face and the furrowing of his eyebrows as he regarded the message with confusion. His change in demeanor did not go unnoticed for more then a second. His friends went silent and looked to him with curiosity and a hint of concern. Dirk replied to the message with a simple affirmative, that he would be there within the hour. He shook his head clear and cracked a smile to his friends to break the tension. He tucked the phone away. 

"Fuck all that, we're going back to my place," he was responded to with a collection of hums, "I'm getting my present." They all buzzed in excitement in return.

* * *

They stood in the middle of the driveway, just in front of the garage. The hot summer sun beat down on the black pavement. They all fidgeted in shared excitement, Dirk doing his best to feign uncaring despite this. Mr. Lear Zahhak grabbed his shoulders from behind and shook him. 

"You excited? They worked really hard on it."

"You ready, Dirk? Drum roll please!" Horuss' announcement gained the loud rattling of of tongues. Equius gave a quick tap to his smartphone and the garage doors began to open. A prime condition vintage car shined with a glossy orange coat. Dirk basked in its beauty, stunned. He crept up to the driver's door to peer through the window. A rather high tech, touch screen interface had been installed into the dashboard. The seats were pristine and black and the steering wheel looked untouched. Roxy and Jake loudly swooned and the Zahhak trio grinned and looked at Dirk with hopeful eyes, awaiting approval. Equius spoke up to elaborate, "Authentic 1969 Camaro, upgraded user interface and performance to our high standards." 

Dirk pulled each of them into a tight embrace. Choosing his words of gratitude carefully to prevent his voice from cracking, "Okay, holy shit, you guys are so fucking awesome, I love you guys. Thank you so much. I can't wait to give it a ride! Hell, fucking, yes."

"We're excited for you to take your friends out for a spin too but first we should get to that one topic, if you don't mind," Mr. Zahhak inquired. 

Dirk nodded and dismissed his friends to occupy themselves until he returned. He followed the eldest man into the house.

* * *

They had seated themselves onto the living room couch. 

"I don't really know how to put this" Mr. Zahhak chuckled nervously, "Well, we've kinda made some plans for you to go to Houston."

"Whoa, who the fuck is 'we' and why the fuck are you sending me to Houston? Wait, like Houston, Texas?"

"Yes. Just hear me out," He paused for a moment and took a few deep breaths, "You have a brother."

"I have two brothers," Dirk rolled his eyes lightheartedly and leaned deeper into the couch.

"You have three brothers," the man deadpanned.

Dirk ran that information through his head a few times. Only when he opened his mouth did he speak up once more, cutting Dirk off.

"You have a twin, Dirk. His name is Dave. Your older brothers wanted you separated from each other and from them after they started getting death threats. You two were just two and a half months old when they decided they had to give you boys up. I supported your brothers and I was trusted with you. Dave was born with albinism so he stood out a little more, they sent him out of state, to Texas. He was placed under the care of a different family, the Makara Family."

"The Makara family? As in Hugh Makara? The suspected drug lord?" Dirk interrogated, trying to analyze the new information being shoved at him. The man nodded and went to continue breaking the news but Dirk inquired once more, "Wasn't the Makara family very much against the Striders?

"They hated the Strider family but they hate all the big corporations including all the Striders' rivals. They agreed to take in Dave so that was one less family that would like to hunt him down plus the Makara's were a good protection from the other rivals." He elaborated, "Now back to Dave. He has a counselor by order of his middle school which has carried on through the years. It was with her I made these plans for you two to finally meet. We think it will be beneficial for you both." Dirk pondered the information for much longer than he was comfortable.

"Okay," Dirk said slowly, contemplating every sound he made. 

"Dirk." The elders voice turned sharp and authoritarian like, Dirk always knew the man to be thoughtful and kind but he knew that tone of voice, when he had gotten in trouble as a kid or when the man was completely wrapped up in an engineering project. Lear held eye contact, "Your brothers were prideful tyrants of the media. To them, death was nothing to lose all their hard work over. They made big plans for you both. They meant best for everyone they influenced, even if they often went about it in the wrong way. Do you think you can make them proud?"

"Yes, I can and I will, I'll do even better than them," Dirk let his face fall to stone, voice turned to steel, "When am I supposed to be leaving?"

"Next Friday."

Dirk nodded with confidence and security though his understanding of the situation was limited.

He had a brother.

He bit his lip and timed his breathing.

He wasn't alone. He wasn't the odd one out. He wasn't the only one burdened with the name Strider. He had a family of his own.

* * *

His basement was his favourite place in the small house. It was small and made even more cramped by the large number of exercise machines. The walls were concrete and the room was always cool. The sound of an alarm briefly cut through Dave's maxed out speaker. It was ignored. It sounded out again. Dave tossed his phone across the room and into the laundry basket. It disrupted his focus once more and he gave in. He gently allowed the lat pull-down bar to come to rest and took a moment to breathe even as the phone continued to yell for his attention. He grabbed a clean towel and his phone, which he quickly set on mute. He sat in front of a small fan he had set up on his apple juice table. He wiped off the sweat from his bare chest and neck. With great reluctance he turned on his phone. His counselor's contact title 'Ms.stfu' had fittingly sent him 16 messages containing nothing but his name. 

'holy shit what do you want'

'Remember when I told you to clean up your house?'

'yes'

'Did you?'

'yes'

'Is it still clean?'

'what the fuck yes what do you want'

'Your twin brother, Dirk, is visiting you.'

'okay this isn't cool im a busy man if you could kindly fuck off thatd be awesome'

'Take a trip outside David, get a breath of fresh air.'

Dave didn't bother with replacing his shirt but through on his aviators. He cursed her manipulating behaviour the entire way up to the living room. He was feeling pretty proud of the freestyle dis track he had running through his mind when something out the window wiped it all clean. He did a double take at the alien vehicle sitting in his driveway. He approached the front door, keeping the car in view at all times. 'Your twin brother, Dirk, is visiting you.' That statement hit him a few times before he concluded that this was fucking stupid. He opened the one barrier protecting him from whatever had come to haunt him this time. He stepped out into the open air with confidence. The reality of the situation hit harder than the damning sun. Nervousness and anxiety crept up his spine and bit at his neck. He leaned against the door frame with relaxed shoulders but a broadened chest and a face that feigned apathy and control. One of his tingling hands slipped behind him and grabbed the switchblade from his back pocket, opening and closing it with a slow, meditative rhythm. 

It took a moment of heavy anticipation before Dave's apparent guest stepped out and approached him. Dave took note of every physical attribute. He was about Dave's age. His short, spiked back hair was a light straw blond and his fair complexion was decorated with freckles. He stood a couple inches higher than Dave and had an over all larger muscle mass, signs of being better fed than Dave's strict budget. He wore triangular shades that appeared to come straight out of an anime with no shame. The rest of his outfit consisted of a grey tee decorated ironically with the graphic of a plain orange hat, a black leather belt with a large silver belt buckle, black jeans that had begun to fade to grey around the knees and bottoms and a contradictory pristine pair of orange high tops. The length of his right arm was decorated with ink, the Sweet Bro logo, a heart design, intricate patterns of geometry and circuitry. Dave's observant eyes could recognize movement even through both pairs of sunglasses. The stranger's eyes scanned across his form with what was probably an equal amount of caution and curiosity. Had this guy taken note of Dave's features? The large number of metal pieces through his ears, his brow and his bottom lip? What about Dave's own tattoos as simple as they may be? A pair of swords clashing on his left arm and the depiction of the skin of his right shoulder torn away to reveal clockwork. Would he notice the shiny black wings on his exposed back when Dave turned around? Would he count all of Dave's visible ribs?

Out of nowhere, self consciousness raked over his nerves and he felt over exposed. He always convinced himself that he had control over every situation. This time however, he could feel his knees buckle ever so slightly under this asshole's judgmental gaze. A wave of panic chilled him into his flight or fight response.

"Yo, the name's Dave. I assume you must be Dirk?" Dave broke the silence, hoping he didn't get the name wrong, considering he just found out this was even happening. As soon as the other's eyes flicked up from his body to make contact with Dave's own, he realized that the hours that he felt pass between them was actually only mere seconds. Dave could only hope he hadn't already been dissected. The other replied with a stiff nod and and outstretched hand, fingers long and nimble. Dave grabbed it, the others skin was warm and he was no doubt ensuring that his grasp was gentle and friendly. Dave guided the shake with a flick of his wrist. This slight moment of control eased his nerves even if just for a moment. 

"Yeah, I'm Dirk. It's nice to meet you, Dave. I don't want to intrude on your home but Ms. Serket said that you had a guest room. Or I can stay in the motel down the street, no problem." Dave grimaced at the mention of that place.

"No way man, that motel is shittier than my place, You can stay here. Let's head in. Quicker we take care of that, quicker you can get comfortable." Dave felt like he spoke up too quickly but figured he'd just play it off by walking straight into the house without another word. It took a few moments for Dirk to enter the house with a bag slung over his shoulder. Dave led him to the spare room to which Dirk haphazardly threw the bag into then made his way back down the hall.

"Oh shit, you have XBox and Playstation? Where you keep your games, bro?" Dirk called out from the living room. Dave was stunned for just a moment but then let out a small chuckle. He had no idea how this guy managed to be so casual with the situation but with the way it pulled him into carelessness he wasn't going to complain. He walked down the hall and layed himself across the couch and grabbed two of each kind of controller from under the couch and placed them onto the coffee table. He let his eyes shut.

"The drawer under the Tv, plus I have a whole bunch of downloaded games. Take your pick." The clicking of plastic cases was ceased by sharp sound of the drawer closing. He kept his eyes close. After a moment of nothingness Dave peaked open an eye. Dirk loomed over him with a pile of games in his hands unable to sit due to Dave taking up the entirety of the seating. Dave shut his eyes again. There was a weight heavy on his thighs. A controller was tossed onto his chest. He waited until he heard cheery music before engaging. 

Fucking Katamari co-op. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see any mistakes or have any feedback please leave a comment!


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